


give me the burden

by elphieao



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, M/M, PWP, slight dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 02:51:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elphieao/pseuds/elphieao
Summary: Canon divergence from -S3E8 -  Waiting For You.Jeremy went back to the office after the The Big Gay Dinner and Big Not-Gay discovery about Bulshar's intentions in Purgatory.Doc isn't in the barn waiting for Wynonna.





	give me the burden

 

 

Jeremy has done the whole demon-hunting thing long enough to pay attention to the feeling in his gut telling him _danger, now- fucking run!_ So when he feels it in the office after dinner with Waverly and Nicole, after a ring and an inscription, and an actual bit of proof that the Garden of Eden exists, he listens to it, jerking out his earbuds and trying to turn around quickly, vials and equipment in front of him forgotten.

 

 

 

But whoever’s behind him is already so close, and grabs each of his arms, placing Jeremy’s hands against the cool metal tabletop in front of him, caging him in. The grip on his wrists is cold and too strong to be human, but while it’s tight, it’s not enough to hurt him. That mixed with a distinct leather and gunpowder smell give away who it is. Doc. He decides to be more pissed than scared, even if he is being manhandled in his own lab by a supernatural being. 

 

 

Though a fine-ass supernatural being at that.

 

 

 

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought Wynonna was on the search for you,”

 

 

Doc steps even closer behind him and Jeremy tries to suppress the hitch in his breathing. Now is not the fucking time, libido!

 

 

“I came by to see how your young man is doing, and to apologize again for my actions. Please believe me when I say that I did not intend to hurt him at all; I was out of my mind with hunger,”

 

 

Jeremy pulls against the hands holding him, trying to turn around. All he succeeds in doing is catching a glimpse of a hat and giving himself some bruising against the iron grip against his wrists. The thought that he may as well be shackled doesn’t help with the whole libido-controlling thing, and he had to double-down on his anger to avoid embarrassing himself.

 

 

“You turned my unofficial boyfriend into a human Capri Sun! You could’ve killed him! I don’t want your apologies,” Anything more he has to say is lost in a gasp as Doc steps closer, hand moving away from his arm to press against the bottom of Jeremy’s sternum before sliding down, stopping when his pinky finger reaches a waistband. The voice in his ear is rough,

 

 

 

“Sure you do; you want a lot of what I have to offer. Always have.”

 

 

He’s a member of the undead; he shouldn’t have the breath to tickle the hairs at the base of Jeremy’s neck, the breath to push his chest against the body in front of him. He mouths lightly at the back of Jeremy’s neck,

 

 

“Are you upset that I bit him? Or upset that I didn’t bite you?”

 

 

Jeremy tries not to groan and the slight scraping of dull teeth against his throat; he doesn’t quite succeed.

 

 

“Because I would, you know, I would bite you right this second if you wanted. I would drain you dry if you asked it of me.”

 

 

Jeremy’s knees are weak and he’s so fucking turned on he can’t stand it. But this isn’t Doc- Doc is Wynonna’s and the hot-ass vampire chick’s and whatever other gorgeous woman’s. He wasn’t Jeremy’s, and had never pretended to be before, so what the hell was going on?

 

 

“Are you glamoring me?” He asks breathlessly, hips beginning to move helplessly, first forward a bit, then backward. His body moves on autopilot when it feels an answering hardness against the small of his back, pressing up and then in, and oh god, he hasn’t been fucked in fucking ages.

 

 

“I do not need to, darlin’, not when you’re this fuckin’ _eager_ for me,”

 

 

Jeremy isn’t held in place by hands anymore, but he isn’t going anywhere. He’s captured by the words spoken against him in the voice he’d been longing to hear them from for months. That Doc has been changed is still too recent for him to drop what he’s been feeling, and he can tell Doc knows it, too.

 

 

“I always knew you wanted me, but to feel how easy it would be to take what you’re offerin’, fuck,” the weight of a forehead against shoulder, mouth so close against his nape, should scare Jeremy, but it doesn’t. He’s almost buzzing in want, and it takes a stupidly short amount of time for him to roll his head onto his other shoulder, offering up the side of his neck closest to Doc’s teeth, confusion about their current position forgotten. He doesn’t know if Doc’s in his right mind at the moment, but it doesn’t seem as big of a deal as it was a moment ago.

 

 

“Do it,”

 

 

But the sharp pain of teeth doesn’t hit him. Instead, there are hands at his waistband undoing the buckle of his jeans, shoving them down his hips and to his calves. Almost automatically, Jeremy kicks them off the rest of the way and pulls down his boxers himself, grabbing the oil normally used for some of the weirder Purgatory-related problems in the same motion as he widens his stance.

 

 

He hears a sharp inhale behind him as a hand runs down his flank, ribs to mid-thigh. The voice next to him is less confident than it was just a sentence ago. Some of the old Doc comes through,

 

 

“Are you sure? I did not come here for the intention of-“

 

 

Jeremy’s had enough of the lies and cuts him off; “I don’t care what you came here for. But you’re here now and you’re gonna give me this, yeah?”

 

 

He slaps the bottle on the table next to him and just breathes at Doc picks it up and opens it one-handed, before it disappears behind him, out of his view.

 

 

There isn’t any pretense or notice after that. Cold, slick fingers make him start as they begin to rub against his entrance, going at a slower pace that Jeremy would expect. Or would want- he spreads his legs wider and drops his forearms to the table, resting his head between his hands on the cool surface.

 

 

He doesn’t know how to say that he was already ready. Not lubed-up, he’s not that much of a slut, but he’s been trying to work himself open at night, keeping loose, since the day he met Robin.

 

 

Hey, a boy can dream, right? And having that dream be delayed because he was uncomfortably tight was never an option.

 

 

The gratifyingly incredulous breath from the other man as he realizes that he can slip one, no, two, fingers in easily is something Jeremy will both treasure forever and deny treasuring forever. This is Doc Fucking Holliday. Other than being a part of history, Jeremy’s wanted the actual man for what feels like his own forever. And now he’s got him, pressed up tight against him and pulling down his own jeans, done with the preparations as soon as three fingers go it without too much of an issue.

 

 

As the blunt head of what is most certainly Doc’s slicked-up dick presses up against him Jeremy forces himself to breathe deeply, calmly against the tabletop. But suddenly a thought comes to his mind and he tries to jerk away;

 

 

“Wait wait wait wait- what about a condom?!” He’s still stuck between the table and Doc’s body, and it’s a tie as to which one he’s less likely to move. 

 

 

“Jeremy I am not nor have been a being with which common ailments concern me for some time. I will not be using your modern rubber... devices this evening.” Again he presses up and almost in, but then stops; “would you like me to stop instead?” And now he’s just being cruel; circling around Jeremy’s hole lightly. Making him pant, and want, and be a damn pathetic idiot just like he usually is,

 

 

“No- no, don’t stop just. Don’t stop. Please.” And it’s on again. Doc holds open Jeremy’s cheeks with one hand while he uses the other to guide his dick in, then grasps at Jeremy’s other hip and pushes in slowly but steadily, little movements out, then harder ones in. It feels like no time at all until he’s buried deep to the hilt, and they both let out groans. Jeremy’s breathy and desperate, Doc’ deep and satisfied. 

 

 

 

Doc’s hands grasp Jeremy’s hipbones tightly as he starts to thrust into him, pulling out about halfway before pushing back in. Not rough, but nowhere near gentle either.

 

Jeremy fucking loves it. Once the pace gets set and he feels up to it he tries to encourage Doc to go faster, to go harder. He does his best to do this silently, with this hands and the tightening of his muscles around Doc. He doesn’t want to speak and give Doc any more satisfaction than he undoubtedly already has.

 

 

It’s been a steady couple of minutes of thrusting when Doc reaches around and grabs Jeremy’s dick in his hand, just as Jeremy had been about to grasp it himself. He didn’t even feel all that bad that he wasn’t getting at least a reach around in all this; hell, given the fucked-up times Doc grew up in Jeremy was still shocked sometimes that the gunslinger even talked to him, let alone screw him against a desk in the former Black Back Division offices.

 

 

He’s at the verge of coming stupidly quick after Doc takes him in his hand. He’s wanted this for so long that his body doesn’t seem to care that the dick is now attached to a fucking vampire. It’s attached to Doc, and that’s all that matters at this moment. 

 

 

Doc who’s currently hitting against his prostate like a fucking champ, and oh my god there is no way that this is his first time with a dude; he’s got Jeremy right up on the verge of coming, then is pulling back, slowing down, in an irritating rhythm. After reaching the edge but not quite pushing over for the third time, Jeremy slaps his hand on the table with as much authority as he thinks Doc will let him pretend to have.

 

 

If the sudden rough, punishing pace is any indication, Doc got the message and agrees; he cuts with the bullshit and just goes on with the fucking; hard and perfect and everything Jeremy had been needing for what feels like forever.

 

 

Jeremy’s thankful when his orgasm hits him that he doesn’t do anything truly awkward like scream Doc’s name or anything. He just shudders out a low moan and grasps the arm wrapped around his waist, turning his face to the side and resting his hot cheek on the cool metal as he comes for what feel like forever; his body feels boneless afterwards. The hand on his dick returns to his hip and the pace speeds up as Doc chases his own finish.

 

 

It’s about two minutes later that it happens, and the sudden warmness deep inside is something Jeremy realizes he’s never felt before; all of his previous hookup had been Grindr and gay bar bathrooms and with men he wouldn’t dare let fuck him without protection.

 

 

Slowly, Doc pulls out and moves away, and okay, fucking _ow_ , that’s some pain right there, and he’s moving slowly, gingerly standing up and making himself turn around to face the other man.

 

 

 

It’s awkward. Oh sweet Summer Glau is it fucking awkward. Doc is done tucking himself into his pants- did he not even take off his jacket? This is what nightmares start with. And it looks like Doc feels the same when he starts talking again. The deep sexed-up rumble is gone, replaced by something tired and what sounds like remorseful.

 

 

 

“I would appreciate it if you would not tell Wynonna I was here this evenin’,” Doc says, not meeting Jeremy’s eyes. Of course he would fucking appreciate that. What’s one more lie, one more slight against his baby-momma? Hell, this one mark compared to the others probably won’t even register after all is said and done.

 

 

Jeremy suddenly, viscerally, hates the man in front of him. Hates his stupid hat and his stupid accent and his stupid charm and his stupid dick. Hates that he would bend over for all of it again in a second if he were given the choice.

 

 

He just tries to keep whatever dignity he can as he pulls up his boxers and pants and does them up with shaking fingers. 

 

 

 

He’s about to say ’Sure Doc, whatever you fucking say,’ when he realizes how quiet the room is and he looks up.

 

 

 

Doc is gone, literally no trace of him except the ache in Jeremy’s ass and the embarrassing mess being made right now of his boxers. He absolutely needs a shower. And he needs to clean up the table he just came all over; sometimes he was glad the custodians weren't allowed in here.

 

 

 

First though, he decides to go through some of the research Waverly did on vampires, specifically if things like garlic and crosses worked on them.

 

 

Jeremy had a feeling that he would need to start carrying a stake or two on him, just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> Everything here is fictional and based off of characters that I do not own any right to.
> 
> CC is very welcome and every mistake is mine.
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Devil's Backbone by The Civil Wars
> 
> ***


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